


if you let me, i'd ruin you

by WhoTheBuckIsStucky



Series: SuperM One-Shots [3]
Category: SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Choking, Dom/sub, Kinda, Knifeplay, M/M, Name-Calling, Safe Sane and Consensual, Slut Shaming, Smut, Sub!Taeyong, Violence, Whipping, dom!taemin, have fun and read this responsibly lol, it's still like. sweet they just go in which is why i decided to use a warning!, its just a lot lol, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoTheBuckIsStucky/pseuds/WhoTheBuckIsStucky
Summary: Taemin thinks Taeyong is really, really cute, and he wants to tear him apart. Taeyong doesn't mind one bit.(everything is consensual and good and fine it's just a bit violent, which may not be to some people's taste. if you think it will upset you, please don't read it!)
Relationships: Lee Taemin/Lee Taeyong
Series: SuperM One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721767
Comments: 2
Kudos: 121





	if you let me, i'd ruin you

**Author's Note:**

> please enjoy! leave me requests for this series in the comments

Taemin couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Jongin would call it cradle-robbing, only half-joking, if he knew. Which was why he didn't know--though, to be honest, Taemin wasn't sure how he could keep this kind of thing to himself, especially if it went well. At that point, it would just be selfish.

And, yeah. Taeyong was only two years younger than him. And he had debuted a few years ago now, so it wasn't that he was a rookie. But despite his bravado on stage and on camera, there was something so innocent to him, and it made part of Taemin want to cradle him in his lap forever.

The problem was, it made another part of Taemin want to devour him whole.

He knew Taeyong was catching on, too. He watched him with such a dark, intent gaze, a gaze Taeyong had met more than once with surprise and confusion. But who could blame him, really? Taeyong was so pretty, and there was a softness about him that made Taemin wonder just how pliant he would be in the bedroom, just how much he'd be willing to take. Taeyong didn't give him breaks either. He wasn't shy about physical affection, nor did he take special care to cover up, at least not around Taemin. 

"Hyung?" Taeyong interrupted his musings. Taemin snapped his head up, trying not to look guilty. "Do you think you could go over some choreography with me later today? I'm just..." He worried his lip between his teeth, and it set Taemin on fire. "I'm just worried I'm not quite getting some parts, and I wanted to learn from the best."

Taemin gave him a conspiratorial grin. "Don't let Jongin hear you saying that," he said, though he knew Jongin would probably just agree. "But yes. Later today, after lunch?"

"Perfect. Thank you!"

_ Alone in a room with him? _ a little voice in the back of Taemin's head mocked.  _ You know that's going to end poorly. _

Taemin shook himself. Either he was going to be responsible about it, or Taeyong was going to end up in his bed. Both situations had their merits, so he was just going to let it play out.

The afternoon rolled around, and Taemin found himself side-by-side with Taeyong, dissecting different moves in the mirror. Taemin did his best to keep his hands to himself, but how could he resist when it was easy to guide Taeyong through the choreo? How could he resist when Taeyong looked at him so wide-eyed, and said, "like this, hyung?", hungry for approval, just asking Taemin to push the small of his back, or smooth his shoulders?

"Okay, could we move on to No Manners?" Taeyong asked after a little while, and Taemin almost choked. 

"Your solo?"

"Yeah, I just feel like I'm not very smooth, I was hoping you could help." Taeyong positioned himself on the floor.

"Maybe you  _ should _ have just asked Jongin," Taemin said jokingly. "He's got more experience with that kind of move." Images of EXO's Artificial Love choreography flashed through his head and he bit back a laugh. 

"Yeah, but... I didn't ask Jongin-hyung. I asked you." Something had changed in Taeyong's voice, and Taemin made eye contact with his reflection, blinking. They stayed frozen like that for just a beat too long, but then Taeyong pushed himself back up, so that he was seated on the floor, looking up at Taemin. "Wanna show me?" He had the audacity to lick his lips. "Hyung?"

"Are you... hitting on me?" Taemin asked bluntly, giving him an almost incredulous look.

Taeyong ducked his head. "Maybe. Uh, I thought you were interested in me, that's why--but if not, that's okay, and I'm sorry. We don't have to talk ab--" 

Taemin crouched before him, resting a finger under his chin and making Taeyong look at him. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Taeyong looked relieved. "Oh thank god, I thought I was going crazy for a second. Yes, I'm sure, I'm so sure."

"Better go to my room, then." Taemin stood, offering Taeyong a hand to help him up. Taeyong took it shyly and Taemin used the opportunity to pull him in close, draping an arm over his shoulder and regarding him with half-lidded eyes. "For the record, I've been going crazy for weeks because of you." Taeyong just blushed.

They closed down the practice room and headed back up to the dorms, Taemin leading Taeyong through the building until they reached his door. 

As soon as he shut the door behind him, Taeyong's lips were on his, hands framing either side of his face. Taemin kissed back hungrily, backing him up against a wall and bracing his hands on either side of Taeyong's shoulders. He bit Taeyong's lower lip and Taeyong whined, almost pleading.

"What do you like?" Taemin asked breathlessly. "I have some ideas, but I don't want to do something you don't want."

"You can do anything you want to me," Taeyong said. His voice had taken on an almost sing-song-y quality. "I want it."

"I'm not nice," Taemin elaborated hastily.

"Ten said you probably wouldn't be. He said you'd be meaner than him." He rolled his head to the side, giving Taemin access to his neck, looking at him through nearly-closed eyes. "Been asking him how I should approach you for a while now. I knew you liked me, knew that you were always watching me out the corner of your eye. You looked so hungry. I kept testing you, trying to see how long you could wait. Ten said if I wasn't careful, you would eat me up. I told him I wouldn't mind."

"Ten, huh?" Taemin raised his eyebrows. "Interesting. What does he do when he's with you?" He started unbuttoning Taeyong's shirt, leaning in to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his skin.

Taeyong's eyes fluttered shut, and he hummed. "He, mm, gives me whatever I deserve. Sometimes it's just a spanking, sometimes it's worse."

Taemin pushed the fabric of his shirt back and saw a yellowing hickey above his hip bone. "He give you this one?" he asked, kissing the spot.

"Yes. That one wasn't for any particular reason, though. Maybe a thank-you, actually. He'd already--already choked me. On his cock."

"You must really like getting hurt," Taemin said mildly, though the possibilities made his heart race, because it was absolutely everything he'd hoped for.

"Yes, please," Taeyong said, grabbing his wrist. "Please hurt me."

"If you let me, I'd ruin you," Taemin said, tone low, and Taeyong moaned, bringing his hand up to his lips to kiss his palm. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes," Taeyong whispered. 

"All right, let's lay a couple ground rules." Taemin ran his hands over Taeyong's body absentmindedly. "First, I like to use a traffic light system. Green is good, yellow is tread carefully, or just take a break, and red is everything stops. Yeah?"

"Okay," Taeyong said, nodding. "Yeah."

"You'll call me sir, and nothing else," Taemin continued.

To his surprise, Taeyong giggled. "Ten likes that, too," he explained.

Taemin nodded, slotting that information away for another time, and kept going. "You aren't allowed to touch me or yourself unless I say. You can't come, unless I say. I'll punish you if you do. Punishments double if you talk back. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Taeyong smiled at him. 

"How do you feel about slapping? Like, across the face."

Taeyong rolled his eyes. "I've been punched before, hyung."

"Oh, rolling your eyes at me?" Taemin resisted the urge to wrap his hand around Taeyong's throat and squeeze, hard. 

"Sorry, sir." Taeyong must have sensed what he was thinking. "It's just--you can be rough with me. Like, really rough. There's not much I can't take."

Taemin took it as a challenge. "Ever played with knives?" he asked, faux-sweet. To his delight, Taeyong shook his head, eyes wide and wanting. "No? Tasted blood?"

"Not like that," Taeyong replied, keening. 

"Mm." Taemin smiled, appraising him. "How about this? I'll cuff you to my bed, plug you, and give you a sound spanking for teasing your poor hyung these last few weeks. Because that's disrespectful, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." 

"Yes. And if you can take that without breaking any rules--and without coming--I'll fuck you nice and rough. If not... well. You'll have to work for it. Might take one of my pretty little daggers out for you, give you a couple of scars. How's that sound?"

"Perfect, sir." Taeyong's voice was small. "I'd like that."

"Color?" Taemin asked, just in case.

"Green."

"Then get on the bed. Clothes off, facedown." Taemin strolled over to his drawers, where he kept his toys. His eyes roamed over the padded handcuffs, but if anyone could take it, it would be Taeyong. He picked up the pretty metal pair, clean silver and sharp edges, then moved on. He chose a simple silver butt plug, one that had a white gem at its base and only three speed settings for vibration, and then looked over his whips. He almost wanted to use the cat o' nine tails, but Taeyong really hadn't been that bad, and he didn't want to start way up high and then have to scale back. He settled on a simple black riding crop, and turned back to the bed, where Taeyong was waiting on hands and knees.

"Up towards the headboard more. I'm going to handcuff you." Taemin sauntered over, holding the riding crop out. Taeyong gave a soft exhale when he saw it. "Get it wet for me; we want them to really sting, right?" He extended his arm and Taeyong stuck out his tongue, pulling the keeper into his mouth. Taemin let him suck on it for a moment before tugging gently. "Good. Okay, head down, but keep your ass up. I don't want you to cheat and get yourself off on the mattress." Taeyong shuffled into position, hardly making a sound, presenting his wrists. Taemin locked one cuff onto one, then hooked the handcuffs around one of the bars on his headboard before locking the other into place. "So good, so compliant," he complimented, giving the cuffs an experimental tug. He saw the muscles in Taeyong's shoulders and back ripple. "I wonder how long you can keep it up?"

He picked the lube up off his nightstand before heading back around to the foot of the bed. He coated a finger, one knee on the bed for better access to Taeyong's ass and pressed in, and then quickly added a second, and then a third. Taeyong barely flinched, even if he was being a bit brutal and not very thorough. 

He couldn't wait to break him.

Smirking to himself, Taemin gave the butt plug a generous layer of lube and then pushed it into Taeyong's hole, twisting it cruelly when he knew it was brushing up against his prostate. Taeyong gave a stuttering moan, but it was mostly out of surprise. 

"All right, all set," Taemin said, as much for his own benefit as Taeyong's. "I'm gonna guess ten lashes barely gets you to unwind. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir," Taeyong murmured. 

"Shall we go ahead and try for twenty, then?" Taemin asked, though it wasn't really a question. "It's not a challenge if I don't make it tough, after all."

"Yes, sir."

"Can I get a color?"

"Green, sir." 

"Thank you, pet." He saw Taeyong shiver at the nickname. "I'm going to count, and you'll say the number back to me. If you miss one, you'll get it again. If you miss too many, you'll be facing more punishment. Ready?"

"Yes, sir," Taeyong responded, prompt and clear.

"Very good." He clicked on the plug, relishing the way Taeyong pitched forward to bury his face in the pillow before gathering himself and settling back again. Taemin shifted his grip on the riding crop, then raised his arm and brought the leather tongue down across Taeyong's ass. The sound rang out clean and quick. "One."

"One." 

"Two."

"Two."

It went easily at first. Taemin had expected it. "Ten trained you well, hm?" he asked after number seven, pressing the cold backs of his hands to the angry red welts that were beginning to form on Taeyong's ass. 

"He did his best," Taeyong said softly. "He can be a bit generous with me, though."

"Well, don't worry." Taemin drew his hand back, and poised to strike again. "I won't be."

Taeyong finally started crying around the tenth or eleventh hit, hands balling into fists at the headboard. Taemin didn't stop, could see he was achingly hard, still, could see the way his cute little ass, now a bright scarlet, clenched insistently around the plug with each lash. 

_ Twelve  _ and  _ thirteen _ were spoken back to him with a stutter, and  _ fourteen _ was a jagged sob. Taemin paused for only a moment, considered asking for a color, but Taeyong knew what he was doing. If he wanted to stop, he'd say so.

So, he brought the riding crop down on his ass again, particularly vicious. "Fifteen." Taeyong only gave him a broken moan in response. Disappointment flaring in his chest, Taemin struck him again. "I said fifteen."

"F-fifteen, fifteen, sir, I'm sorry," Taeyong forced out, the words tripping over each other. 

Taemin clicked his tongue. "You were doing so well. I really thought you'd make it all the way through. I'm going to have to make it a little more difficult, so you can make it up to me." He reached forward and upped the vibration on the plug to the second level. Taeyong clenched down hard around it, crying out in surprise, hips jerking forward almost as if he was trying to run away from the sensation.

"Stay still," Taemin said dispassionately, taking a hold of one of his ankles and squeezing. "Five more. Are you gonna make it?"

"Yes, sir," Taeyong whispered, turning his head so that Taemin could just barely make out the glistening in one of his eyes over his shoulder. He was shaking, and Taemin could see tear-tracks on his cheeks.

"Better not be lying." Taemin repositioned himself, letting Taeyong's ankle free. "I don't like liars." He struck him again without warning. "Sixteen."

"Six--s--fuck, sixteen," Taeyong was almost mewling, straining against his desire.

"Seventeen." Taemin brought the crop down again, unrelenting. Taeyong repeated it back, panting. "Almost there. Eighteen."

"Eighteen," Taeyong croaked out through clenched teeth, and then he grew very, very still and very, very quiet, clearly trying to stave off the inevitable.

Taemin really thought he'd done it for a second, managed to stop himself, and was about to reward him with a slightly more gentle hit, but then the younger boy was convulsing and coming onto Taemin's fresh sheets.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Taeyong was babbling as soon as he got his breath back, still twitching. 

Taemin sighed. "You really were so close," he said. "What am I going to do with you now?"

"Whatever you think bad boys deserve." Taeyong's voice was wrecked.

"You couldn't follow my directions at all?" Taemin forced hurt into his voice, pretending to be wounded. "Makes me wonder if you can take a punishment at all."

"Please, sir," Taeyong said, voice pitched with desperation. "I can--I can, let me show you.." 

Taemin just huffed. "You'd better." He yanked the plug out of Taeyong's ass, turning it off and throwing it aside, and aimed the next hit directly over his gaping hole. "Nineteen."

Taeyong screamed in pain before adding quickly, "Nineteen, nineteen," and dissolving back into sobs.

And, oh, Taemin liked that sound a lot. His own cock strained against his jeans and he inhaled sharply through his nose. He did it again, striking dead center over Taeyong's abused entrance. "And that's twenty."

"T-twenty." Taeyong was sniffling, crying in earnest, and Taemin cooed, setting the riding crop down and going to fetch the keys for the handcuffs, releasing Taeyong and allowing him to curl into himself. He pet his hair reassuringly for a moment.

"What color?" he asked softly.

"Green, sir," Taeyong slurred, raising his head a fraction of an inch so that he could make eye contact.

Glad he was doing well, but displeased that he was still so lucid, Taemin just nodded. "If I ask you to get on your back because I want to cut you up and fuck you open, what color then?"

Taeyong's eyes widened, and for a split second Taemin thought he was going to say no. But then his eyelids drooped again. "Still green," he said through smiling lips. "I want to be good for you."

"I hope you will be." Taemin touched his cheek, then turned back to his toy collection. "Separate question: what color knife should I use?"

"A dark color would be pretty," Taeyong replied. "Like a dark purple? It would match my hair."

"You're so right," Taemin said, smiling. He plucked up a metallic purple switchblade, clicking it open. It’s handle was rather slight, which was its only flaw.  _ One day, _ Taemin thought to himself, eyeing a large silver dagger that had an intricately designed hilt,  _ I'll fuck him with that. _ Still, the purple one gleamed in the bright afternoon light, its color reflecting on the walls. "On your knees," he instructed, returning his attention to the boy in front of him. "Facing me."

Taeyong did as he was told, wiping away the tears and snot that had mixed on his face. "What will you do with it?" he asked softly, nodding at the blade in Taemin's hand.

"Mm," he replied, wandering back over until he was right in front of Taeyong. "I'll probably give you a few on your ribs. You didn't follow the rules, and you also lied to me when you said you'd make it all the way through." Even he could admit that last accusation was a little mean, but Taeyong just swallowed and nodded. "And if you can take those like a good boy, maybe-- _ maybe _ \--I'll let you come. Okay?"

"Okay." Taeyong's head was bowed, and Taemin tilted his chin up to capture his lips in a particularly sweet, chaste kiss. When he broke away, Taeyong moved as if he was about to get on his back, but Taemin stopped him.

"It's not going to be that easy," he said, catching his wrist and pulling him back upright. "You'll have to put your mouth to good use before you get what you want."

"Oh--" Taeyong settled back on his heels and opened his mouth, giving him an expectant look.

Taemin laughed, discarding his shirt and undoing the buckle of his jeans, pulling everything off in one swift motion, stepping out of the crumpled pile of clothing and kicking it to the side. He moved closer, smirking as he watched Taeyong's face--his eyes so intent, so hungry, and his face slack and wanting, still red from crying and streaked with dried tears.

Taemin rocked his hips forward, ever so slightly, and at his nod Taeyong leaned in to meet him, lips wrapping around his cock head, cheeks hollowing immediately before he drew a steadying breath and pushed himself forward to take more. 

"You look so pretty," Taemin praised, and Taeyong hummed low in his throat. The vibrations made Taemin's breath catch, and he ran a hand through Taeyong's hair, making a fist and pulling hard.

Taeyong let his head loll forward, though his mouth was still hard at work, giving himself over to Taemin. Taemin's head spun at the gesture, both touched at the trust and turned on by the submission, and before he could really think about it he drew Taeyong's head closer until he felt the tip of his dick bump against the back of his throat. But Taeyong didn't choke, didn't gag, just closed his eyes, blinking out a single tear, and breathed through it. Taemin hadn't seen anything like it. Even Jongin, in his most submissive state, would still cough a little, and he could never take so much, so fast. 

Eventually, he remembered he was supposed to be fucking his face, not just standing there dumbfounded with his cock halfway down Taeyong's esophagus. "You're so talented," he whispered, and Taeyong let out a little huff through his nose. Taemin couldn't help but smile, charmed, dragging his dick out of Taeyong's mouth and giving him just a moment to gasp for air before shoving it right back in, and setting a steady pace.

He also finally remembered the knife in his free hand. He steadied the blade with his thumb, and pressed it up against Taeyong's side, slotted between two of his ribs. He pressed in, just a little, just until he could see the faintest hint of red, and drew a short line. Taeyong just moaned, more tears falling hot and fast from his eyes, which were now screwed shut. But he didn't tap out; instead, he hollowed out his cheeks again, this time almost insistently, a silent reassurance that he was fine. So Taemin moved one rib down, and did it again; cut a thin, straight line, bringing the knife to his lips when he was done to gingerly clean it of blood.

Though he knew they were both anxious to move on, he couldn't help but savor this for a little longer. He kept a tight grip on Taeyong's hair, occasionally bottoming out again and just staying there for a second, just because he wanted to see it, marveling at the way Taeyong just gave way, just let him use him without complaint.

After a few minutes, though, Taemin had to let him go, feeling himself getting close and not wanting to ruin it. "Okay," he said, pulling away. "On your back, knees up, legs apart." He picked up the lube from where he'd discarded it before, slicking himself up and climbing onto the bed. He saw blood beading up on the cuts he'd made just a few moments before, and he swiped his thumb over the area gently, collecting it on the pad of his finger, and then reaching forward, coaxing his thumb into Taeyong's mouth for him to suck clean.

Taemin checked absentmindedly that Taeyong was still loose enough--he was, and Taemin scooted closer, hooking Taeyong's knees over his thighs, lining himself up with Taeyong's entrance and sinking in. There was a slight stretch, but it wasn't bad, and the only noise Taeyong made was a little satisfied whimper that bubbled out of the hollow of his throat. 

Taemin took hold of Taeyong's waist with his left hand, right still gripping the knife. He held it up, getting Taeyong's attention. "Ready for another? Give me a color."

"Green." It came out soft, a sigh of affirmation more than anything else. "Want it," he elaborated, "wanna be good."

"I know," Taemin said, giving him another indulgent smile. He rolled his hips experimentally, getting into some kind of rhythm. "Hold still, or I'm going to end up doing some real damage." The look in Taeyong's eyes told him he really wouldn't mind, but Taemin didn't want blood on his sheets. He lined the knife up on his unblemished side, and sliced, trying to make it quick because he could feel Taeyong trembling with effort beneath him. It was deeper than the last two, partially purposeful, though Taemin could have admitted he went further than he needed to.

"More," Taeyong said, and though his tone was undemanding, the command was there all the same. "Make it  _ hurt _ , I want to show you I can take it."

" Don't fucking tell me what to do." The strange fury snapped Taemin's spine straight, drained the gentleness out of him, contorted his smile into a sneer. Without thinking, he flipped the blade around in his hand and backhanded Taeyong across the cheek, making him choke on a gasp as his head whipped to the side on impact, the sound reverberating angrily around the room. "Thought I'd be a little nice with you for your first time, break you in easy. But that's not enough for you, is it? That's why you're here, after all, because you wanted more? So greedy; so selfish." Taemin jerked his hips back, and then slammed them forward. Taeyong's head knocked against the headboard, and he yelped. "What was that?" Taemin snarled.

"I'm sorry, sir!" Taeyong gulped. "I only meant--"

"I don't want your excuses," Taemin said, dismissing him. "You want me to really hurt you? Want me to make you bleed?" He punctuated each sentence with another violent thrust, taking pride in the way Taeyong had gone limp beneath him. "I gave you so many chances to be good, and you wasted every single one. This is how I treat bad, greedy boys who can't do what they're told."

Taeyong opened his mouth to say something else, maybe to agree, but Taemin had already pierced his side with the very tip of knife, holding the it almost entirely by its blade, digging into his skin until a large, glistening drop of dark red blood formed, and then broke, trickling down towards the mattress. Keeping the same pressure, he split open a good few inches along Taeyong's ribs. Whatever Taeyong had been about to say turned into a cry of anguish.

When he finally drew his hand away, his fingers were dripping with blood, and the air around them had gained a sort of metallic tinge. Taeyong was panting out quiet, pained sobs. Taemin put the knife between his teeth and pressed his bloodied hand flat to Taeyong's stomach, ramming into him properly a few times before shifting the grip of his left hand down to Taeyong's hip, pressing him into the mattress and then taking the knife back out of his mouth. He noticed Taeyong was already hard again, leaking against his stomach, precome mixing with the blood.

He stretched the hand holding the knife out, sharp edge forward, until it was hovering a few inches from Taeyong's throat. Their eyes locked--Taemin's, hard and cold, and Taeyong's, watery but determined. And then Taeyong just mouthed,  _ do it _ .

It was all the permission Taemin needed. He closed the distance between the blade and Taeyong's soft throat. Though he wasn't aiming to draw blood, he did anyway as they were both jostled by his now errant thrusts. 

"Please, sir," Taeyong whispered. "Please, I need--I need to come, please--"

"You're going to come untouched, or not at all," Taemin replied through gritted teeth. "You did it once, without permission." Taeyong whined, guilt shadowing his features. "I'm sure you can do it again."

Though he didn't quite look convinced himself, Taeyong nodded fiercely, letting his head fall back further. His hands flew to Taemin's chest and back and though Taemin never said he was allowed to touch him, he was far past caring, the feeling in his stomach overwhelming him and making his toes curl. 

He dug his fingers into Taeyong's hip, hoping he left bruises. "Come for me then, you dumb little  _ slut _ ," he said, biting out the last word to make it sting even more.

Taeyong moaned again, spasming around Taemin's dick in a way that made him see stars. He barely registered the feeling of Taeyong's come hitting his stomach, or the way Taeyong was crying his thanks beneath him, one long string of "thank you, sir, thankyouthankyou _ thankyou _ \--"

Taemin dropped the knife, letting it slide down onto the bed somewhere, fit his hand around Taeyong's neck, and went almost perfectly still, save for the slight shaking as he emptied himself into Taeyong's ass.

He released Taeyong as soon as he had the mind to, finding the switchblade, closing it, and tossing it onto the floor. He pulled out, trying to ignore the uncomfortable squelch, and crawled up the bed, pulling Taeyong's head into his lap.

Taeyong raised an eyelid, slowly, and when he saw Taemin looking down at him with mild concern, he smiled. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," Taemin breathed back. "You okay?" He brushed a few fingers through Taeyong's hair tenderly, looking him over. "You were amazing," he added, when Taeyong didn't reply right away.

"Mm." Taeyong blinked at him lazily. "So were you. Better than I imagined. So, yes, I’m okay."

"You imagined me?" Taemin asked, laughing a little.

"Of course. Not just recently, like, for years." Taeyong shrugged, unashamed. "You're hot, hyung."

Taemin willed himself not to blush. "I've never met anyone like you," he confessed. "Everything I gave you--you just took it. Barely batted an eye."

Taeyong's smile grew wider, and he looked like a cat, devious and satisfied. "Guess you'll have to try harder next time."

It stung a little, but Taemin took it in stride. "As long as we have a next time," he chose to say. "Ten won't mind?"

"No," Taeyong said. "He's not my boyfriend or anything. We just work well together. He understands me; I understand him. Though," he added, looking maybe a little sheepish. "I think at times I can be a little too much for him to handle."

"Maybe we can convince him to join us. It'd be easier on him, and I'd have fun," Taemin suggested, quirking an eyebrow up.

"Sure. Or... what about Jongin-hyung?" Taeyong gave him a mischievous look. "He looks like he gets  _ real _ mean, if you press the right buttons."

Taemin laughed, loud this time. "You!" He grinned down at Taeyong, cupping his face with his hands, fingers under his chin, thumbs stroking slowly over his cheeks. "You are insatiable."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! as i mentioned above, I'd love any requests you may have, both for this series and just in general. you can find more info about who I write for, as well as a link to my buy me a coffee (thank u to the lovely reader who mentioned i may get in trouble for linking it directly to my ao3) [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about)! and of course that is my tumblr, where u can feel free to ask me things as well, if that's better for you (anon is always on!)  
> please check out my other works as well! for those of you who read [studies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189343), the next part should be up within the next couple days! editing is taking longer than i expected, but that is of course bc my beta readers are thorough, and we're all working to make it the best that it can be!


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